Internal Affairs
by TDWidow
Summary: Los Angeles private investigator Dennis Booker plus LAPD officer Kate Lockley plus Angel the ensouled vampire equals a big mystery and possibly a little love triangle. Part of the New Jump Street Series. Angel the Series crossover.
1. LAPD

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** This story marks the beginning of a series of stories that I call the New Jump Street Series. Each story can stand alone, but there are elements in each one that reference the others and add to the plot.

This story is more or less a prequel to the story that really starts the Jump Street part of the plot. The only two 21JS characters in this one are Dennis Booker and Harry Ioki. It takes place in Los Angeles in January of 2000 and is a crossover with the TV show _Angel_. This first chapter mostly focuses on _Angel_ characters, but 21JS characters will appear very soon. Enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER** I don't own anyone in these stories. Stephen J. Cannell and Joss Whedon do.

**Chapter One**

Detective Kate Lockley of the Los Angeles Police Department did not have many friends. It was something that she had grown used to. In the years that she had spent working to become a police officer, she had sacrificed the part of her capable of being close to others. Her long and tumultuous relationship with her father never helped matters and recent events had pushed her further away from everyone around her.

There had only been one exception to her rule of loneliness in the past six months. A decidedly unlikely friendship had sprung up between her and a mysterious Los Angeles private investigator known only as Angel. It had taken time and overcoming a lot of trust issues, but Kate and Angel had slowly become friends.

Their first meeting had gotten off to an awkward start when Kate tracked Angel to a girl's body lying bloody in a bed and mistaken him for a serial killer that she had been tracking. He of course had been tracking the same one and only at the last moment did they join to stop the murderer.

It had been a few weeks since they had last seen each other at her father's retirement gala. Kate cringed just thinking about it. The party had ended in disaster. No one had ever figured out why she and the other officers had broken down and sobbed their deepest feelings to each other, but Kate and her father hadn't spoken to each other since Kate's tearful plea for her father's love.

She and Angel hadn't spoken either. Kate decided that if she had any chance of salvaging their precarious friendship, she should maybe drop by and see how Angel was. Los Angeles could be a rough place, especially for a private investigator.

The main office for Angel Investigations was on the first floor of an old building in downtown LA, with Angel's apartment in the basement. Kate pulled up in her unmarked car – Angel's people never seemed to react well to police cars. She pushed open the building's front door and headed up the half-flight of stairs to the windowed office door heralding Angel's agency.

She opened the door a crack, softly knocking on the frame, when she heard voices. Frowning, she quietly crept into the office and eased the door shut.

The voice coming from Angel's private office was a voice that Kate did not recognize – a British man. "How did he die?" he asked.

Angel's assistant Cordelia answered him. She sounded tearful. "He, uh, sacrificed himself for a clan of Listers. The Scourge was after them."

"The Scourge?" the British man asked.

"Warriors," Cordelia explained. "Neo-nazi things."

Angel spoke up softly. "He died a hero."

A silence fell over the room. Kate felt guilty listening in on such an obviously somber and private moment. Then Angel spoke up again. "Look guys, it's up to us to continue what Doyle started. Cordy's inherited his gift – "

Cordelia scoffed. "Yeah. Good times, those."

"Our link to the Powers isn't severed," Angel said. "Wesley, are you in?"

"Absolutely," said the British voice. "I will do whatever you ask of me."

"Good."

There was the shuffling of people standing up. Kate ran back through the office and eased the door open. She would talk to Angel another day.

…

Kate sat restlessly at her desk back at headquarters. The conversation she had heard kept playing over and over again in her head. Something felt wrong.

While she knew Cordelia, she had only briefly met Angel's other assistant, Doyle. Angel had talked of him, though, and Kate had gotten the sense that Doyle was a contact between Angel and many of his clients. Judging from the things that she had heard, Doyle had been killed.

But there was something else. The things that Angel had said about Cordelia inheriting a gift and the link to the Powers not being severed didn't make any sense. And what were Listers? The more she thought about it, turning the words over in her head, the less she understood them.

It was possible that she had misunderstood him. Maybe he was talking about something that Doyle had left for Cordelia in a will. And maybe the Powers was a cable company or something. There must be a logical explanation for the crawling feeling that something strange was going on.

Two hours and four cups of coffee later, Kate sat gnawing on the end of a pen considerably more jittery but no less fixated on Angel's words. An idea had been forming in her mind, but she was trying to convince herself that it was not necessary. She glanced back and forth between the phone and her desk drawer where the telephone directory lay.

It was crazy. It wasn't necessary. She could figure everything out on her own.

Eventually, her curiosity won out over logic and she pulled out the yellow pages. She ran a finger down the page under "Private Investigation" and stopped at one that was listed just below Angel Investigations. Certain that she had lost her mind, she dialed the number.

"Hello, you've reached Chapel Detective Services," answered a pleasant female voice. "How can I direct your call?"

"Hi," Kate said, keeping her voice low so as not to attract attention. "I'm looking to hire a private investigator."

"One moment please."

The line clicked off while Kate was put on hold. After a moment, it clicked again and a new voice answered. "This is Dennis Booker. How can I help you?"


	2. Chapel Detective Services

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Enter Dennis Booker, Private Investigator Extraordinaire and Harry Ioki, new Lieutenant in the LAPD. Welcome to the crossover, folks! Vampires meet really hot undercover cops.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone.

**Chapter Two**

The main office of Chapel Detective Services was in an office building on Wilshire Boulevard out near Beverly Hills. Kate again opted for her civilian car and drove to the office out of uniform. Her appointment to meet with Dennis Booker was scheduled for 7:00 that evening.

She was lucky that the station had been quiet. If things had gotten hectic, she never would have made it out in time for the meeting. She was second-guessing her decision enough as it was – if she had any reason not to go, she was afraid that she would take it.

Guilt had begun gnawing on Kate's mind the moment she had first stood at Angel's door and listened to his conversation. It had been growing all day, but she felt that she had no choice. Angel did strange things. He showed up at odd times and made outrageous requests. There was no doubt that he was hiding something from her. But did that really warrant the extreme length of having him investigated?

The office building itself actually reminded Kate very much of the building that housed Angel Investigations. That was almost enough to scare her away, but she gritted her teeth and opened the door to Mr. Booker's office.

A receptionist sitting in the lobby smiled at Kate when she walked in. "May I help you?"

"Yes, uh, hi. I'm Kate Lockley. I have an appointment with Dennis Booker?"

"Certainly Ms. Lockley. Just take a seat. Dennis will be right out."

Kate sat uncomfortably in one of the armchairs, idly flipping through a back issue of Reader's Digest. She raised an eyebrow as she caught sight of a motorcycle magazine near the bottom of the pile. As she rifled through the others, she noticed that the Reader's Digest in her lap was the only magazine _not_ about motorcycles and bike racing.

The receptionist interrupted her reading when she said, "He will see you now."

Kate left the magazines behind and headed through the doorway just past the desk. The long hallway was decorated with a handful of paintings. She was happy to see that these at least were not all of motorcycles. The receptionist gestured to a doorway at the end of the hall. "Right through here."

"Thank you." She headed up to the doorway.

Kate was not sure what she expected Dennis Booker to be like, but it certainly was not the man who stood up from behind a desk and came toward her with his hand outstretched. He had black hair that stood up in long gelled spikes and sported a well-worn leather jacket. She shook his hand, slightly shocked. "Hi," he said. "I'm Dennis Booker."

"Kate Lockley," she replied. "It's nice to meet you."

He smiled. "You too. Please, sit down."

She sat opposite his desk. "Thank you."

"So," he said as he settled himself at his desk. "What brings you here?"

She shifted, unable to meet his eye. "I, well, there's this friend of mine. I think he's hiding something from me."

Booker smirked. "Something like an old girlfriend kind of something?"

"No!" she said quickly. "No, nothing like that. Just…something." She frowned. "Something's not right about him. I can't explain it. I just know there's something wrong." Sure that she was blushing, she glanced down at her lap and mumbled, "Hence why I'm here."

"So you want me to investigate your friend because there's something strange about him?" Booker asked.

Kate nodded. "I know it seems a little much, but you'll understand. Just find out what he's hiding."

Booker looked at her for a minute, then nodded. "All right. What's his name?"

"Angel."

"Angel what?"

Kate shrugged. "I've never gotten a last name. I'm not even sure that he has one."

Raising an eyebrow, Booker said, "What is he, the next Madonna?"

Kate laughed. "I told him only popes and pop stars got to get away with not having a last name."

"So which is he?"

"Actually he's a private investigator." Kate dug around in his bag and handed Booker the Angel Investigations business card. "This is his agency. He has two others who work for him."

Booker looked at the card and the strange drawing that he assumed was an angel. "Is he any good?"

"At investigating?" Kate asked. Booker nodded. She shrugged. "Yeah. He's been in to see me a few times about cases and you can tell he really cares about his clients."

"Hmm." Booker studied the card for a moment. "Okay. So no last name, but you've got a work number and address. That should be an okay start."

"He lives in that building too," Kate said. "In the basement."

"He lives in the basement?" Booker repeated. "Of an office building?"

Kate shrugged as if to say I told you so.

"I'll get right on it," Booker said.

Kate stood up and shook his hand. "Thank you very much, Mr. Booker."

He laughed. "Oh God, please don't call me that. Dennis or Booker is fine.

She blushed. "Okay, Dennis."

"We'll meet again in a few days to discuss how the investigation is progressing," he said.

"Sounds good."

Booker watched as his new client left his office. Glancing down at the business card, he frowned. He felt strange investigating another PI, like he was turning his back on his fellow man. He never felt like this back when he was Internal Affairs for the Metropolitan Police Department. With a rueful smirk, he thought, _It's all Jump Street's fault_.

He picked up the phone and dialed. "LAPD Wilshire Station," came a voice.

"Lieutenant Ioki, please. Tell him that Dennis Booker is on the line."

"One moment please, Mr. Booker."

Booker rolled his eyes. He hated to be called Mr. Booker. With a pang, he remembered what it was like to be called Officer Booker, but shoved the feeling away.

Harry Ioki's voice came through the line surprised and pleased. "Booker!" he said.

"Hey Harry," Booker replied. "How's it been?"

"Not bad," Ioki replied. "How are you?"

"Same. Congratulations on your promotion!"

"Thanks. How's the agency going?"

Booker leaned back in his chair and swung his feet onto the desk. "That's actually why I called. I just met with a new client. A Kate Lockley."

"I've never heard of her," Ioki said, confused.

"Yeah, well I was hoping you could do a little investigating of your own for me. She's a cop."

"LAPD?"

Booker shrugged. "I don't know. She didn't actually tell me that she was a cop."

Ioki laughed. "You just figured it out?"

"Oh come on! You can't tell me that after all your years undercover, you can't spot a cop from a mile away."

"All right, fair enough. So what do you want me to do?"

"Just a little digging. Find out if she's got anything weird on her record."

"I'm not supposed to do that," Ioki said. "But I guess just once for an old friend."

"I really appreciate it." Booker sat up. "Oh, and one more thing!"

Ioki sighed and chuckled. "Yes?"

"I need to know if a private investigator named Angel has a criminal record."

"Angel what?"

"No last name." Booker smirked. "Thinks he's a pop star or something."

"Well, if he's a PI, then he's got to have a license or something," Ioki said. "I'll check it out."

"Thanks Harry."

"No problem."

A silence fell over the line. Finally, Booker said, "Give me a call and let me know what you find."

"Will do. We'll grab a beer or something."

"Sounds good."

"Hey Booker," Ioki said. "I've got to go. My captain's calling a meeting."

Wistfully, Booker said, "Okay. Captain's orders."

"I'll let you know when I find something."

"Bye."

"I'll talk to you later."

Booker laid the phone back in the cradle, a melancholy expression on his face. He was completely devoted to his agency. Since his days with Teshima, he had discovered how much good he could do as a private detective. But there were times when he longed for the danger and excitement of being a police officer. There was nothing like it in the world, not even being a PI.

But he had to focus on the task at hand. He had a job to do and a man to investigate. He stood up and grabbed the keys to his motorcycle to take a drive to clear his head.


	3. Angel Investigations

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Sorry for the delay! All of the technical difficulties are hopefully behind me. Enter Cordelia Chase, who does not hit it off with Booker.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own them.

**Chapter Three**

The building that housed Angel Investigations was typical of downtown Los Angeles. The façade was art deco reminiscent of the first half of the twentieth century, with a grand doorway that led to a sunny corridor lined with windowed offices.

It was not hard to find Angel Investigations. Booker cautiously opened the door and called, "Hello?"

A young dark-haired woman appeared from the office in the back. "Hi!" she said brightly. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," Booker said. "I'm looking to hire a PI."

Her eyes lit up. "Of course! Please, sit down. I'm Cordelia Chase, one of Angel's assistants. Can I get you some coffee?"

"Sure."

Cordelia brought him a styrofoam cup filled with black coffee and settled herself in the chair behind the lone desk. "How did you hear about us?" she asked.

Booker took a sip of the coffee and immediately regretted it. "I, uh, was referred by a friend."

Cordelia frowned. "Oh. Who?"

"She would prefer to remain anonymous."

That didn't seem to satisfy Cordelia, but she ignored it and pressed on. "And what seems to be your trouble?"

"Trouble?" Booker repeated.

"Yeah. What's on your tail?"

"On my tail?" Booker repeated again. "What are you…?"

"Are you not being chased by something?" Cordelia asked, confused.

Booker shook his head. "No."

"Oh." She frowned again. "Then what are you doing here?"

He was surprised by her frankness. "I told you. I need to hire a private investigator. Can I maybe just talk to your boss?"

She cast a doubtful look out the window where the sun shone brightly over the street outside. "Now's not the best time," she finally answered. "He's, uh, busy. If you'd like to come back this evening, like say maybe around nine? I'm sure he could speak with you then."

Booker sighed. "Fine." He stood up. "I will see you then."

He was almost to the door before Cordelia called, "Wait!"

He turned. "Yeah?"

She stood leaning on the desk, an amused expression on her face. "If I'm scheduling a meeting, I need to know your name."

A ghost of a smile came to his lips as a memory stirred from years past. "Dennis Blackwood."

She made a note. "All right, Mr. Blackwood. 9:00 tonight, in this office."

"Sounds good." He smiled and opened the door. As he walked out into the hallway, he nearly collided with a tall, thin man with glasses and a tweed jacket. "Sorry," he said.

"It's quite all right," the man said with a British accent. "My fault, I'm sure."

"Wesley?" Cordelia called. "That you?"

Wesley looked past Booker into the office. "Yes. I'll be right in!" He turned back to Booker. "Excuse me." He disappeared into the AI office and closed the door.

Booker shook his head and headed back outside. He had a meeting with his client.

…

Kate sat down opposite Booker at an outside table at a small café on the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. He looked up from his menu. "Hello again."

"Hi." She smiled the awkward smile of a greeting between acquaintances. "I was surprised to hear from you so soon. It's only been two days."

He shrugged. "Sometimes things go better than others."

"So you found something?"

Booker shook his head and grinned. "No one works that quick, not even me. But I do have an appointment with our friend Angel tonight at 9:00."

Kate frowned. "An appointment? What for?"

"To hire him of course." Booker saw the skeptical look on Kate's face. "The best way to learn about someone is to see them in action."

Kate was impressed. "You know, that sounds kind of like something they taught us at the Police Academy."

An odd look came over Booker's face and he looked away. "Yeah, that's where I picked it up," he said.

"You were a police officer?"

He sniffed and said, "Yeah. Three years."

"Doing what?" she asked eagerly. "Where?"

He shifted uncomfortably, focusing intently on the menu on the table. "Internal Affairs for two years. Undercover for one. Do you know what you want? My treat."

"Uh, no." Kate picked up the menu and skimmed it. "So were you with the LAPD?"

"No."

Something in Booker's tone told Kate not to push the issue further. There was another awkward pause as they avoided each other's gaze. Finally, Kate said, "I've heard the avocado-lobster roll is really good here."

"I'm not an avocado fan."

Kate smirked. "You live in southern California and you don't like avocadoes?"

He laughed. "That's what everyone says. But I'm still a New Yorker through and through. Give me pizza over avocadoes any day."

Smiling mischievously, Kate said, "Give us time. We might make you into an avocado lover yet."

He raised an eyebrow. "We'll see."

…

Ioki sat at his desk at the Wilshire Station, searching the LAPD's extensive database. Many of his fellow officers had left for the evening, but one or two hung around for the evening hours. Ioki watched them carefully as he searched personnel files for Booker's client Kate. He did not mind doing Booker the favor, but the idea of taking a fall for it did not sit well with him either.

Kate Lockley was easy to find. Interestingly, so was her father, a Trevor Lockley. He had recently retired amidst a scandal involving spiked liquor at his retirement party. Kate was stationed at the Metro Precinct with quite a successful arrest record.

He printed both pages and set them aside for Booker. He moved into a different database and began his search for Angel.

It turned out to be much harder than finding Kate or her father. Angel had no last name, no license, no Social Security number, no birth date, no evidence of existence at all. Ioki leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. Perhaps Angel was an alias? If so, who was Booker really investigating and why go through all the trouble to hide his identity? What was Booker getting himself into?


	4. Doug and Dennis Blackwood

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** I don't think I'm mentioned this yet, but this story takes place between the episodes "Parting Gifts" and "Somnambulist" of _Angel_. It takes place in 2000, so 10 years after Booker left Jump Street.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone.

**Chapter Four**

At five minutes before nine, Booker walked through the door of Angel Investigations once again. Cordelia was at the desk, filing her nails. She looked up. "Mr. Blackwood!" she said. "Welcome back. I'll just let Angel know you're here."

"Uh, thanks." Booker looked for somewhere to sit down, but there seemed to be nowhere. So he stood, awkwardly adjusting his leather jacket, and waited.

Cordelia reappeared and beckoned Booker to follow her. "Come right into Angel's office."

"Okay." Booker followed her into what seemed to be the only other room in the office. It was considerably darker than the lobby. Cordelia closed the door behind him and Booker was left facing the man who must be Angel as he sat at his desk.

He was not quite what Booker had expected. He looked younger than Booker, but there was something about his eyes that felt ancient. Angel stood up and held out his hand. "Hi," he said.

Booker had to hide a smirk as he shook Angel's hand. He was clearly uncomfortable in the meeting clients stage. "You must be Angel," Booker said.

"Yes. And you're Mr. Blackwood?" he asked. "Please, sit down."

"Thanks." Booker sat in the chair opposite of the desk. "Thank you for meeting with me so soon."

"Of course."

Booker sat silently for a minute, gazing around the heavily curtained office. He whistled. "Not a fan of light?"

"You might say that." Angel's intense look bored into Booker. "So what seems to be your trouble?"

"Uh…" Booker was quiet. He had not quite gotten to that part of his story yet.

"Mr. Blackwood?" Angel asked.

"My brother," Booker blurted out. "My brother Doug. He's missing."

Angel leaned back and looked at Booker suspiciously. "What happened?"

"Doug's, uh, he coached football for a community college in the valley. He and I were supposed to go to see our mother for the weekend. It's her birthday and he never showed up. I went to the college, but no one's seen him for a couple days." Booker swallowed a nervous sigh and hoped that wherever he was, Doug Penhall would not mind being an extension of his story. "He's never taken off like this before. I know he's a grown man and everything, but he's my twin brother and I just get this feeling like he's in danger."

Angel nodded. "Do you know if anything's been hunting him?"

Booker frowned. "Anything?"

Now it was Angel who looked confused. "I'm not sure I understand what you're doing here."

"Look, my brother's disappeared and I need someone who can help me find him! Are you going to take my case or not?"

There was the intense stare again and finally Angel nodded. "I'll take your case. I'll need some more information from you and a recent picture of your brother would be helpful. You can see Cordelia about that."

Booker stood up. "Fine. Thank you."

He turned to leave, but Angel's voice stopped him. "Mr. Blackwood, I need you to be completely honest with me about the circumstances of your brother's disappearance."

Booker froze. "What makes you think I'm not?"

Shrugging, Angel said, "Nothing. But if you find out anything, no matter how weird or unrelated it may seem, you need to let us know."

Shakily, Booker nodded. "I will."

He met Cordelia in the lobby. "That was quick!" she said.

"Yeah. It's, uh, not a complicated case."

Angel emerged from his office. "His brother's missing," he told Cordelia. "Get a case history and a recent photograph."

Cordelia frowned and looked back and forth between Booker and her boss. "Uh, okay."

"I'm going downstairs."

Angel disappeared into an elevator near the back of the office. Booker smirked. "Not big on people, is he?" he asked Cordelia.

She shook her head. "No, but that's a good thing. So, your brother is missing?"

"Yeah. Just disappeared."

Cordelia sat herself at the desk and rummaged through the top drawer. "Well that's different than our usual cases."

"How do you mean?"

"What?" When she straightened up to look at him, she had a deer-in-the-headlights look. "I just mean that, well, we have a certain type of client and you don't really fit the profile. We usually find them, not the other way around."

"That's a very strange way to run a detective agency."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh really. And you'd know that how?"

He shrugged. "No reason. I'll have to fax over the picture. I don't have one on me right now."

"Fine."

Booker stood there for a minute, but neither he nor Cordelia said anything. "I'll just show myself out," he finally said. "Say goodbye to your boss for me."

She turned on her sunny smile, although this time it had a hint of sarcasm behind it. "Will do."

Booker left the Angel Investigations office confused and a little worried about how he was going to produce a recent picture of Doug Penhall/Blackwood to fax to Cordelia. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Kate Lockley.

"Lockley."

"Hi Kate, this is Dennis Booker."

"Dennis, hi." She sounded flustered.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" he asked.

"No, no. What's up?"

"Well I met with Angel. If you can make it, I'd like to meet for lunch tomorrow to discuss how the case is going."

"I can't. I've got a precinct meeting that will probably run all day." She paused. "But I'm free tomorrow evening. What about dinner at Miceli's?"

"Dinner," Booker repeated. "Uh, sure. That sounds good."

"Good. I'll meet you there at eight."

…

At five past eight the next evening, Booker and Kate were seated at a cozy table for two on the single private balcony in Miceli's. A pianist on the main level just below them played "Ain't We Got Fun" as a tall waiter sang. "I've never been here," Booker commented.

Kate looked down at the main level and smiled. "It's a fun place. The food's good, too."

They sat a little uncomfortably as they each looked over the menu and ordered their dinner. "So I met with Angel," Booker said once the waiter had left.

"How did that go?"

"He's definitely weird."

Kate laughed out loud. "I told you."

Booker grinned. "I don't know what it is, but something is definitely off. I've got him searching for my imaginary missing twin brother, so it should keep me in contact with him for awhile."

Kate nodded. "Good. Smart move."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, I've been taught well."

"You must have been a great police officer," she said, then flushed a little. "I mean, you sound like you're good at what you do."

Booker shifted in his chair and stared intently down at the main level of the restaurant. Kate cleared her throat, then said, "Sore subject. I'm sorry."

He looked back up. "It's okay," he said shortly. "Not your fault."

Kate had no idea what to say, so she took a long sip of wine instead. "I was very good at what I did," Booker continued. "I was also very bad at it. A lot people I cared about suffered because of me, including people at Jump Street."

She smiled sadly. "The perils of being a cop. I know all too well."

This time, he met her eyes. "It's hard sometimes, living with the things that I've done."

"Like what?"

He sighed. "I was assigned to an undercover unit known as the Jump Street program two years after I joined the force. At first I was sent in with Internal Affairs to investigate them, but then transferred permanently."

Kate broke off a piece of bread. "That's a big change, IAD to undercover."

"Yeah, it was an adjustment. And I guess I never really let go of IAD paranoia."

"What do you mean?"

Booker looked incredibly sad. "There was a case that went bad. My partner was shot and he ended up in a coma. These Jump Street guys, they all looked out for each other like no other police unit I've ever seen. This other officer who I got partnered with a couple times went after the guys who shot Harry. Another cop ended up dead."

Kate just shook her head. "Wow."

"It gets better," Booker said ruefully. "All the evidence pointed to Hanson as the killer."

"Hanson was your other partner?" Kate asked.

Booker nodded. "Yeah. I agreed to work with the dead cop's partner to find the killer thinking that I could protect Hanson from an unfair persecution, but I screwed it up big time." He paused and took a deep, shaky breath. "I got caught up in the investigation, lost sight of everything I was trying to protect. I ended up putting Hanson in jail for a crime he didn't commit."

She did not know what to say, so she said nothing and waited for him to continue. "A couple of months later, I teamed up with Hanson's partner and the two of us proved his innocence. But the way I did it broke almost every regulation in the book. They were going to transfer me to the police department library." He smiled sadly. "So I resigned."

Just then, their dinners arrived. Booker laughed. "So all that heavy conversation before our food even comes out. Hope I haven't ruined your appetite."

Kate shook her head. "Don't worry. Being a cop's an awful job sometimes. I definitely get that."

Booker smiled and raised his glass. "Well then, cheers."

Kate lifted her own glass, smiled, and toasted. "Cheers."


	5. Two Sets of Partners

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Ioki and Booker refer to the last time they had seen each other, but don't come out and say what it is. It's a plot point in my New Jump Street Series, but it's not important until the next story, so don't worry about it for now.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own them.

**Chapter Five**

Angel sat brooding in his office. Something about Dennis Blackwood put him on edge, though he could not figure out exactly what it was. The man was just too smooth and jumpy at the same time. Angel had not spent over two hundred years among humans and not learned anything about reading them.

Cordelia poked her head in. "I'm going home," she said. Angel merely nodded. She frowned. "Don't you want to know why I'm going home at 9:00 in the evening?"

"Not really."

Cordelia sighed in frustration and stormed into the office. "Well I'm going to tell you anyway."

Angel looked up and raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Okay."

"I'm going home in the middle of my bizarre work day because I have a date. With Phantom Dennis. To watch TV. Because _nothing's_ going on here!"

Angel looked at her blandly. "And you want me to do what?"

Dropping into a chair, Cordelia shrugged. "I don't know. I'm bored."

Angel chuckled. "How about an assignment?"

Cordelia perked up. "An assignment? Like what?"

He smirked. "You really are bored. Start looking for any information on Doug or Dennis Blackwood."

She rolled her eyes. "Why are we even taking this case?"

"You're usually the one pushing me to take normal cases," Angel said.

"Yeah, but this one's boring!" Cordelia complained. "There's no demons or anything."

"It's kind of refreshing."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "And yet you're still all broody. What's wrong?"

Angel stood up and paced restlessly around the office. "I don't know. There's something about Dennis Blackwood that bothers me."

"There's something about a lot of people that bothers you," Cordelia said, smirking.

Angel did not acknowledge the joke. Cordelia sighed. "If you really think there's something wrong, why don't you check up on him instead of his brother? Call police lady. See if she knows anything about him."

He looked thoughtful, although Cordelia mused that it was not much of a change. "You think it's too late to call her?" he asked.

She stood up with a groan. "We're still here, aren't we?"

With an amused smile, Angel picked up the phone and dialed the station. "Can you connect me to Detective Lockley?" he asked when the dispatch picked up.

"Detective Lockley is unavailable," the dispatcher said. "May I ask who is calling?"

"I'm a friend. Can you tell me when she'll be in?"

"She's out with a different friend," was the snippy reply.

Had he any breath, Angel would have heaved a frustrated sigh. "I really need to speak with her."

The dispatcher did sigh. "Detective Lockley and Mr. Booker are unavailable for the evening. I'm sorry."

Angel frowned. "Mr. Booker?"

"I'm sorry, sir. Goodbye."

He held the receiver, staring for a moment, then laid it back on the cradle. "Cordelia!" he called.

There was no answer, so he left his office and found Cordelia frowning scathingly at her computer. "Cordy?" he asked. "Anything wrong?"

"This is the information age, right?" she asked. "Why can't I find any damn information?"

"What's up?"

"There is no Doug Blackwood," she cried. "None! Well, okay, that's not true. There was a Doug Blackwood and Dennis Blackwood who played football for five minutes for Augustana High School up north. I'm willing to bet that that's the one we're looking for. But I can't find any useful information for tracking this guy down if he doesn't exist outside of having a good rushing record!"

Angel smiled. "Cordelia, maybe you should go home. Go watch TV with Phantom Dennis. We'll worry about Doug Blackwood tomorrow."

She shot one last scornful look at the computer, then shut it down and grabbed her bag. "Sounds good to me. Call me if you need anything?"

"Sure."

"Okay. Goodnight!" The echo of her heels faded as she headed for the outside of the building. Angel glanced at the computer, but decided to take his own advice and leave the case alone until later. He needed to be alone.

…

Booker returned home to find a note taped to his apartment door. "Stopped by with info for you. Wanna grab a drink? HTI" He grinned at Ioki's old-fashioned methods of communication and pulled out his cell phone to call him.

"Lieutenant Ioki."

"Hey there!" Booker said. "You still up for that drink?"

Ioki laughed. "Booker, it's nearly eleven o'clock."

As he unlocked his door and dropped the keys on the side table, Booker teased, "You can't be finally getting old on me, can you Harry?"

"All right, all right, fine. Barney's?"

Booker shook his head. "Harry, you are stuck in the 90s, my friend. Meet me there in twenty?"

"Sounds good," Ioki said.

Twenty minutes later exactly, Harry Ioki came through the front entrance of Barney's Beanery and spotted Booker sitting at a booth with a beer. He grinned and slid in across from him. "Dennis Booker."

"H.T. Ioki!" Booker clasped Ioki's hand across the table. "Long time no see."

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" Ioki's face fell. "Not since…"

Booker cleared his throat. "Yeah. Not since then." They sat in an awkward silence, Booker taking a long swig of his beer. Then he asked, "So what did you find for me?"

Ioki's expression darkened. Booker frowned. "Oh no. I've seen that look before," he said.

"It's just that I didn't find anything," Ioki replied.

"You didn't find anything?" Booker was confused. "But your note said you had information for me."

Ioki shrugged. "That is the information. There isn't anything. This Angel you're investigating doesn't exist. At least, not according to any public records. No investigation license, no Social Security number, no tax records, not even a speeding ticket."

Booker glared darkly at his empty beer glass. "How is that even possible? How does one guy – "

"What, slip through the cracks?" Ioki supplied. "Come on Booker, you should know better than anyone that people fall through the cracks in a lot of ways."

Booker could scarcely meet his eyes. "Yeah. I know." He sighed. "Well, thanks for the help Harry. I really appreciate you doing this for me." He was quiet for a minute. "What about Kate? About, uh, Detective Lockley?"

"She's a good cop. There was a minor incident about her father's retirement party a couple weeks ago. Something about suspect liquor at the bar. Other than that, not much out of the ordinary."

He looked on edge. Booker frowned. "What is it, Harry?"

Ioki looked innocent. "What?"

Booker smirked and rolled his eyes. "You were my partner for a year, Harry. Or did you forget?"

"No. I didn't forget." Ioki rolled his beer bottle around on the table. "She has a reputation for going outside the force. You know, going to questionable sources to help with her cases."

"So what?" Booker asked. "We used to go to sources all the time."

Ioki shook his head. "She shuts the other officers out. She isn't a team player and you know what that means."

With a sigh, Booker nodded. "A loose cannon. Great."

The waitress brought around their bill and the men paid. "Thanks for meeting me," Booker said as he shook Ioki's hand. "And thanks for the favor."

"No problem," Ioki said. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

Booker waved a hand. "Nah, don't worry about it. We should do this more often."

"Definitely."

They parted in the parking lot. Booker climbed on his motorcycle and took off down Sunset Boulevard toward Beverly Hills. The open air helped him to think and he needed time to do it.


	6. Nosy PIs

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** I know that Booker moves awfully fast, but he was a player back at Jump Street. Maybe that part of him is still in there.

Also, Angel comes off as a little stalkerish. He's stalkerish in the show too, it just doesn't come off as creepy because he's always trying to help someone. Just think of it as him being over-protective of Kate.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own them.

**Chapter Six**

Two days later, Booker stood nervously in the hallway outside of Kate Lockley's door. He had shown up announced and hoped that she was home. It had been a very long time since he had done anything like this.

Hesitantly, he knocked on the door. There was rustling inside, then the light behind the peephole disappeared. A moment later, Kate opened the door. "Dennis. What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I'd drop by and see if you wanted to grab dinner. Or a drink. Or something." It sounded lame and he knew it. But he just stood there and waited for her answer.

After a minute, she smiled. "Sure."

The door closed for another moment, then Kate reappeared in the doorway carrying her purse and a coat. "Let's go."

Together they walked down to the elevator, each shifting nervously and looking anywhere but the other's face. "Sorry about the short notice," Booker said to the elevator button panel.

"It's fine," Kate replied to the plant on the small end table. "Where do you feel like going?"

Booker shrugged. "Honestly, I didn't really expect to get that far."

They both laughed and the moment diffused just a little. "Well now that we've reached this point, it's time for you to choose where we're going."

Slightly blushing, Booker nodded. "Fair enough. I suppose it depends on what you're in the mood for."

They took the elevator down to the ground floor and headed for the black car parked at the curb. Kate frowned. "I thought you had a bike?"

Booker blushed again. "I do. This belongs to a friend. I, uh, didn't think you'd be comfortable riding the bike." He opened the side door for her and she climbed in.

Kate caught sight of a label sticking out from the underside of the visor. "Well remind me to thank H.T. Ioki sometime."

Booker shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Only Ioki would label his car. You didn't answer my question."

She shrugged. "I guess if you're going to make me choose, then how about Hard Rock Café? That place is always fun."

He nodded. "LA or Hollywood?"

"Definitely LA. You have to pay ten dollars to park at the Hollywood one."

Booker laughed. "Fair enough."

The Hard Rock Café was busy but they did not have long to wait for a table. As they ordered drinks and looked at the menu, Booker wondered again what exactly he was doing. His growing feelings for Kate were something that he had not felt for a long time. Not since before Jump Street. Not since before that girl had killed herself when she realized that she had fallen for a narc.

He had no idea how Kate felt about him. But he knew that getting involved with a client was a bad idea, especially since Kate was a cop and could probably read him like a book. That thought alone made the whole situation unsettling.

He must have been quiet, because Kate was looking at him strangely. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course," he said quickly. "I'm fine."

"Because you look like you're worried about something."

Booker shook his head. "No. Everything's good."

She smiled hesitantly. "Good."

They sat in awkward silence for a minute. Then Kate asked, "How's my case?"

"Honestly, I've kind of reached a stalemate at the moment," Booker admitted. "I've called as many times as I can without being suspicious, but Angel has no new information for me. Probably because this twin brother I have him searching for doesn't really exist." He smirked. "Well, hasn't for many years anyway."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

Booker chuckled. "I gave him the name of an alias I used once while undercover. The brother that he's looking for is the alias my partner on that case used. So in theory there might be some information about the great but short football career of Doug Blackwood at Augustana High School, but that's it."

"That's smart, though," Kate said. "If there's even a tiny piece of information about him, then Angel won't suspect that you made him up. He may be strange, but Angel is a very intuitive PI."

Frowning, Booker said, "You sound like you respect him."

Kate was quiet at first. Then she said, "I do."

"Then, why are you having me investigate him?"

Kate's cheeks reddened. "Curiosity," she said sheepishly. "There's just something I don't understand about him. And I guess with all the help I give him, I just want to know what's going on."

It was not the answer Booker expected, although it did put his mind at ease. More than he wanted to admit, he had been afraid that Kate had been attracted to Angel. He also hated to admit that he could have been jealous. Dennis Booker did not get jealous, but Kate seemed to bring out a new and decidedly uncomfortable side of him.

Their dinner conversation consisted mostly of meaningless small talk. They laughed over drinks and shared a dessert before finally they got back into Ioki's car to head home. At Kate's door, they stood in a slightly embarrassed silence. "Thanks for dinner," Kate said.

"No problem." Booker smiled. Then without a second thought, he grabbed her and kissed her deeply.

When he released her, they were both breathing heavily. "I'll see you soon," he said with a lopsided grin.

She nodded. "Yeah, okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Kate disappeared into her apartment and Booker headed down to return Ioki's car. He picked up his bike from Ioki's parking spot and rode grinning back to his own place. He paid little attention to anything until a soft voice made him pause as he unlocked his door. "Mr. Booker. Or should I saw Mr. Blackwood?"

Booker groaned and turned around to face Angel standing in the shadows. "Look who's talking, Mr. I Got No Last Name."

"I've been looking for Kate," Angel said. "And it seems that she's been spending all of her time with you."

Groping behind him for the doorknob, Booker said, "Yeah? So?"

Angel took a step toward him. "I don't know what you're playing at."

Booker smirked. "Then you're not as good at your job as Kate says you are." His hand closed around the doorknob and he opened it to step backward into his apartment. Angel followed him but stopped just short of the doorway. "What do you want?"

Angel glared at him from the hallway. "I don't like being tricked."

Booker shrugged. "Too bad, my friend." Then he closed the door in Angel's face. Then he collapsed on his couch and leaned his head back. Kate was not going to be happy with this.


	7. Revealed Secrets

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** This chapter has a lot of Booker introspection and some serious conversation, but not a lot of action. I apologize – next couple of chapters is where things really hit the fan.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own anyone still.

**Chapter Seven**

Booker woke up on the couch under an afghan and tried to remember why he had decided to sleep there the night before. Then suddenly he remembered Angel showing up at his door, effectively destroying his cover as a worried brother. "Great," he muttered. Now he would have to find another way to discover Angel's secret.

Angel must have been hiding something huge for Kate to be so interested. Although, Booker had to admit that at this point he did not much care what the reason behind her curiosity was. What mattered was that Angel's secret had led them to meet. Now he was not sure what the next step was supposed to be.

He liked Kate. She understood him in a way that no one had in a long time. When they were together, he felt comfortable talking about the more distressing parts of his past. She seemed to be comfortable around him as well.

That all could change, though, once she found out that his cover was blown. How Angel had found out that he had been spending time with Kate was a mystery to him. It didn't matter really, but he knew that Kate would be disappointed when she learned that Angel had been spying on both of them. Disappointed and probably angry.

Booker knew that he should be angry too, but for some reason he wasn't. Angel was a Private Investigator, just like him. He was doing his job and what he had said was right. Booker should not have tricked him. He had seen the look on Angel's face before when other officers had learned that he was IAD and when high school students had found out that he was a cop. There was a certain feeling of camaraderie that Booker felt for Angel, regardless of the fact that their only meetings had been under false pretenses and then hostility.

He figured that he should probably get up off of the couch, so regretfully he threw off the blanket and wandered into the bathroom to shower. A half an hour later, he grabbed his keys and went down to get his bike.

At first he headed toward Kate's apartment, but decided that he was not quite ready to face her and tell her how he had let her down. Then he thought maybe Ioki would have advice, but he had put his old friend through enough already. There was no sense on dumping this on him first thing on a Saturday morning.

Deep down, he knew who he had to talk to, but the idea was not particularly appealing. Nevertheless, he turned his bike east and headed for the downtown offices of Angel Investigations. He sat outside on the street for a minute, then sighed and headed inside.

Angel's assistant Cordelia was the only person around when Booker opened the office door. She looked up at him and glared. "Oh! So nice to see you, Mr. Blackwood. Or Booker? I wasn't too clear on that part. Too many fake names confuse me."

He sighed. "Is Angel around?"

"He's not in," she replied shortly.

"Look," Booker said. "I'm sorry that I lied to you, and I can't believe that I'm actually apologizing for doing my job, but I really need to see your boss."

Cordelia gave him a withering smile. "Well I'm afraid you'll have to come back later, Dennis. Or whatever your name is."

"Dennis," Booker replied. "I'll be back later, then."

"Fine."

Angrily, Booker headed back outside. He got to his motorcycle and had swung one leg over the seat before shaking his head and going back to the office.

Cordelia jumped when he threw the door open. "What do you want?" she snapped.

"I'm just curious as to why Angel is nowhere to be found every time I come by during normal business hours," Booker said. "And in order to see him, I had to come back right in the middle of prime time TV. That doesn't seem normal."

She was thrown for a moment, but then she leaned across her desk and said in a low voice, "What Angel does is none of your damn business."

Booker gave her a smug grin. "Why not? I'm a client, aren't I?"

"Not anymore."

"Aw, come on. One little lie and I get thrown out on my ass?" He shook his head. "Not good business."

Cordelia shrugged. "Not my call. Now I suggest you leave before I show you what it's like to really get thrown out on your ass."

Booker put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, fine. But don't think I'm not coming back. Angel and I have some things to talk about."

Cordelia smirked. "Like your missing imaginary brother? Tell me, did you just pick a name out of nowhere or is the amazing football player Doug Blackwood someone you know?"

"His real name is Penhall."

"Well that's nice to know. Real guy?"

Booker nodded. "Not really my brother, though."

With a sarcastic smile, Cordelia replied, "Figured that one out. Thanks. Now get the hell out of my office."

He walked out again and drove his bike toward Ioki's apartment. The sun had crept a little higher now and he figured that his old partner would not mind a visit. Even if the visit was to bitch and moan about Angel and everything that had to do with him.

Ioki invited him in and his Los Angeles apartment was just as neat and immaculate as his old one had been years before. Booker shook his head in amusement. "Ioki, it's nice to see that some things never change."

Ioki frowned and looked around his apartment. "What?"

"Nothing." Booker collapsed on the couch. "Harry, I think I screwed myself."

Sitting across from him with a cup of coffee, Ioki said, "In what way?"

"Blew my cover."

"Already?" Ioki asked. "You've never blown your cover this fast."

Booker sighed. "I know."

"So what went wrong?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Booker said, "I, uh, sort of got caught out of cover."

Ioki raised an eyebrow. "Caught how?"

"Well, he found out that Kate has been spending a lot of time with me. With me as me, not as Blackwood. And so when he showed up at my door he saw that I was me and not who he thought I was."

It took him a minute to figure out exactly what Booker was saying, but then Ioki replied, "Well then you'll just have to go at this from a different angle."

Nodding, Booker said, "Yeah, but what angle would that be?"

Ioki sighed. "Honestly, I'm not sure you should go after this anymore. This Angel is pretty shady. I mean, no public record of him at all anywhere?"  
"Yeah, that is strange."

"Strange?" Ioki shook his head. "No Booker, this is not just strange. This is abnormal. Suspicious. Possibly dangerous. Many many reasons that you should drop this whole thing."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Booker got up and paced around the room. "Because I just can't, okay?"

Slightly stung by his tone, Ioki just shrugged. "Okay, fine."

His anger evaporated and Booker looked at Ioki. "Sorry. This is just more complicated than that."

"Than what, Dennis?"

Booker reluctantly said, "I can't abandon the case. I can't let Kate down."

Ioki eyed him for a minute, then shook his head. "You can't be serious. Booker, haven't you learned anything?"

"Apparently not."

Sighing, Ioki stood up and disappeared for a minute into the kitchen. When he came back, he had a beer in his hand. He handed it to Booker. "I think you need this."

Booker looked at the clock that read 11:25 and raised an eyebrow, but took the bottle anyway. "Thanks." He took a long swig and sank back down into a chair. "Harry, what am I doing? Falling for a client?"

Ioki shrugged. "Yeah, I don't know. You did some crazy things back at Jump Street, but this is a whole new ballgame." Reluctantly, Booker nodded.


	8. Parent Conference

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Sorry for the delay – I've been really busy. Enjoy the chapter!

**DISCLAIMER** I still don't own them.

**Chapter Eight**

Kate took the news particularly well, considering that Booker had set his investigation back more or less to square one. Still, he was surprised when she called him the next day and asked if they could meet for coffee.

Kate was sitting at a table on the outside patio when he arrived. She didn't see him at first and he hesitated a moment before disturbing her. "Hey," he said softly.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Dennis, hi."

He stood beside the table for a minute. Finally, she gestured to the seat beside her. "You want to sit down?"

"Yeah, sure."

Kate stared at her iced coffee, idly swirling the straw around as Booker tapped the tabletop. "Dennis, why are we like this?" Kate asked a moment later. "Why the awkwardness?"

"What awkwardness?" Booker asked sarcastically.

She sighed angrily. "Fine." She stood up. "Just call me when you fix the investigation you botched so magnificently."

"Absolutely," Booker growled at the table.

She hung around for another minute like she was waiting for him to say something else, then finally turned on her heel and stalked off. Booker did not look at her as she left, but once he was certain she was out of sight, he sagged back in his seat. Why had he gone and done that? What possessed him to be such a jerk when faced with even the slightest bit of fear?

Oh yes, he was afraid. He was afraid of how vulnerable he felt around Kate. He was afraid of letting her know how he felt. He was afraid that if he failed to find Angel's secret, she would hate him. That was not something he wanted to face.

Angrily he stood up and, grabbing the keys to his bike, took off after her. Hopefully he could catch her before she left. If not, well then he would just have to show up at her apartment again. It had worked well enough the first time.

It did not come to that. Kate was sitting in the driver's seat of her car when he came along beside it. She looked up and smirked. "I was right."

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I didn't really think you'd let me storm off like that."

Booker cursed himself when he felt his face get hot. "Yeah, well, I didn't want to totally screw things up. I've done that enough."

She sighed. "Dennis, you didn't totally screw things up. The case maybe but only temporarily. I mean, you just have to go at it a different way. Angel has people who work for him. Try talking to one of them."

Booker chuckled. "One of them already knows me. She doesn't like me much."

"Well try the other one. The British one."

Nodding, Booker smiled slightly. "So maybe I didn't screw it up."

She gave him a look. "Not entirely."

He laughed. "So I'm forgiving for being a jerk?"

She put the car in drive. "That's going a little far." But then she gave him a smile. "I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

Stepping back from the car, he nodded. "Okay."

As Kate drove away, Booker leaned tiredly against his motorcycle. The situation was not getting any easier. In fact, every day that went by that he let her down by making no progress on the case made him feel worse. The idea of her disappointment in him was too much to take.

He loathed himself for feeling so conflicted. Back in his Internal Affairs days, there were no times like these. He had no feelings either way about the people he investigated and exposed. It didn't matter if he ruined a career or a reputation, even his own.

It wasn't like he was stupid. He knew how much IAD was hated within the rest of the Metropolitan Police Department. As he began to get really good at his job, the hatred was targeted at him specifically. Avoid Dennis Booker at all costs, they said. Don't let him dig up anything on you or your career will be over.

It never used to hurt knowing that others hated him. But when he alienated the Jump Street officers, he actually cared that he was the odd man out. He had watched Penhall and Hanson and Ioki and Hoffs work together like a single unit. The four of them were closer than siblings. He had always been on the outside. Then when he had sacrificed himself to clear Hanson's name, there had been a foolish hope that it would win him a place in their circle. But of course, he hadn't been around long enough for that to happen.

His apartment seemed like a depressing place, but he really had nowhere else to go. He parked his motorcycle in the parking garage as usual and headed up the elevator to the second floor of the building.

"Dennis Booker."

The sound of his name caught him off guard. He narrowed his eyes at the older man standing outside of his door. "Who wants to know?"

"I've come to talk to you about Kate."

Booker sighed and frowned. "How do all of you people know where I live?"

"Oh I know a lot more than that," the man said. "Dennis Booker, once a respected member of Internal Affairs for the Metropolitan Police Department. Internal Affairs turned into a short assignment at the famous Jump Street Chapel. Then you lost your badge for breaking nearly every regulation in the book in your bid to spring your old partner from jail. Your old partner who you actually put in jail if I'm not mistaken."

Booker was disturbed by the amount of information this man had on him. "You're a pretty good detective," he said.

The man shrugged. "When you're a retired police officer, people do you favors."

Great, now he had the police following him? "And what's all that information to you."

"Just checking up on the man who's dating my daughter."

Booker approached him slowly. "You're Kate's father?" he asked.

Mr. Lockley nodded. "And she's my little girl, so you had better treat her right."

"What makes you think I wouldn't?"

Lockley gave him a hard glare. "IAD. Dishonorable demotion avoided only by your own resignation. Now you're working as a private investigator. Not the best record, Mr. Booker. Not someone I want to give my daughter a bad name."

Temper flaring, Booker replied, "She came to me. I'm doing a job for her."

"Oh I know," Lockley said. "And when that job is over, you'll be out of her life. Got it?"

"Are you threatening me?"

Shaking his head, Lockley replied, "No. Not threatening. Just sharing a little advice."

Booker pushed past him and put his key in the lock. "I don't need your advice."

"I suggest you take it."

Booker did not stick around to hear anything else Lockley had to say. He slammed the door in the man's face and collapsed on his couch. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.


	9. Basement Apartment

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Remember, this story takes place right before "Somnambulist" in _Angel_ season one, so Angel still lives in the basement apartment. I always liked that setting much better than the Hyperion Hotel in the later seasons.

**DISCLAIMER** Don't own them.

**Chapter Nine**

The next day, Booker decided that he would do whatever he needed to do to discover Angel's secret and take the other private investigator down. Screw the rules, screw the law, screw common sense even. If he needed to get down and dirty to get to the bottom of this case, then so be it.

Kate had suggested trying to get to Angel through the British man who worked for him, but that suddenly seemed too tame of an idea. He had to find out everything he could about Angel and he had to do it now.

He had never seen Angel in the office during the day. In fact, he had never seen Angel at all during the day. Every time the other PI had shown up somewhere, it had been at night. Wherever he spent his days had to be tied up in his strange life somehow.

Booker knew that his motorcycle was too suspicious. The day after Kate's father confronted him, he stopped by his office to grab his business credit card, then took the 5 Freeway up into the San Fernando Valley and got off at the Burbank Airport. Reluctantly, he left his beloved bike in the lot of a rental car lot and took the most inconspicuous vehicle he could find instead.

Stopping only to get a very large cup of coffee, Booker then got back on the freeway and headed toward Angel's art deco office building. Then he pulled his rental car into a parking lot with a good view of the building's front door and waited.

He waited through the entire morning and early afternoon. Cordelia got to the office sometime around ten in the morning, followed an hour later by the British guy Wesley. No sign of Angel.

Booker had never been a patient man. By the time that the first set of workers slipped out of the office to avoid the maddening Los Angeles rush hour, he was going stir crazy. He glared darkly at Angel's building for a moment, then punched the steering wheel and muttered, "Screw it." Jumping out of the car, he locked the door and darted through traffic across to Angel's building.

He remembered that the first time he and Kate had met about the case, she had told him that Angel lived in the basement of the building. Well if Angel could show up at his doorstep, then why couldn't he show up at Angel's?

There was a sunken entrance to an underground garage around the side of the building. Booker glanced around to make sure that no one was peeking out of any office windows, then strolled down the driveway, trying to be quick and casual at the same time. There was no one else in the garage and he quickly found a passage in the corner that led up a couple steps before leveling off.

There was a sliding metal warehouse door just off of the landing. Booker tried to ease it open, but it creaked loudly as the door slid against its rusty frame. He cringed. Not as stealthy as he would have wanted.

It led him into a dark apartment. He frowned as he looked around. Besides the massive amounts of ancient weaponry mounted on the walls, the obvious basement setting, and the conspicuous lack of light, it was not a bad place. There was a kitchen, a sunken living room, and a closed door in the back that presumably led to a bedroom.

"Huh," he muttered aloud. Not the typical Los Angeles basement apartment.

Angel was nowhere to be found, so Booker took the opportunity to inspect the unusual wall decorations. There were weapons of every kind: knives, swords, axes, sais, crossbows. They might have been antique, but they were still very sharp.

They also all looked slightly used. When Booker looked closer at them, he noticed that there was no settled dust on the mountings. Either Angel was awfully clean or the weapons were regularly taken down.

There was an armoire near the closed door with one door slightly ajar. Carefully, Booker tapped it open just enough to see inside. More weapons and a few old books.

An odd shiver came over him as he looked around the dark empty apartment. Maybe Ioki had been right. Maybe he was getting in too far over his head. Angel lived in a basement full of sharp medieval battle-axes. Something was very wrong with Angel Investigations.

Suddenly he was afraid. Rational or irrational, Booker didn't care. All he wanted was to get back out into the sunlight and take his rental car back to the valley. He had one hand on the door when a voice behind him stopped him.

"Dennis Booker."

He spun around to see Angel standing in the doorway that had been closed. He had no choice but to stand his ground. "Hey Angel," he said, flashing the grin that had gotten him grief from so many police captains. "Nice place you got here."

Angel blinked, as if he had just woken up, and walked into the living room. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you dropped by my apartment so I thought I'd return the favor."

Angel had a very intense look. He kept his eyes trained on Booker as he slowly circled the living room. "What are you really after, Mr. Booker?" he asked.

Booker glanced nervously at the large scimitar just behind Angel's left shoulder. "I'm just doing my job. You're a private investigator, right? You know the drill."

Angel nodded slowly. "I know the drill." He idly ran a hand over the handle of a crossbow on the wall. "Kate hired you," he said.

There was no use in denying it. "She thinks there's something odd about you," Booker told him. Then he laughed. "Can you blame her?"

That was not the best plan. Angel's glare darkened. "Leave her alone," he growled.

"Or what?"

Something flickered in Angel's eyes. "You don't want to know or what."

They stared at each other for a minute, then Booker shrugged. "She's a big girl. She can decide who she wants to be friends with."

Angel took a step toward him. "Do not hurt her."

"Me hurt her?" Booker sneered. "I'm not the one who lives in a weapons museum."

"I'm a collector," Angel deadpanned.

Before Booker had the opportunity to throw another retort in Angel's face, Angel had him against the wall with an arm across his throat. "You do not want to get involved here," he hissed. "Trust me."

Angel was surprisingly strong. "Try me," Booker managed to say before balling up a fist and hitting Angel in the temple.

Angel released him and stumbled back, his head bent out of sight. Booker gasped for the welcome breath and massaged his throat. "Is this how you greet all of your houseguests?" he asked.

But Angel did not reply. Instead, he straightened up and his face was visible again. Booker felt his blood run cold. Angel's eyes had turned yellow, his eyebrows grown into bony ridges, and his teeth elongated into fangs.


	10. Hiding In The Sun

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Booker doesn't take nearly as long as he probably should to accept all that's going on, but I didn't feel like writing three or four filler chapters of him figuring it out. After all, Kate accepts it pretty quickly once she finds out.

**DISCLAIMER** I don't own these characters.

**Chapter Ten**

"What the Hell?" Booker cried as he stumbled backwards and groped blindly for the door.

A low growl escaped Angel's throat before his features seemed to melt and shift back to normal and his eyes turned brown again. "I told you, you didn't want to get involved in this," he said, his voice deathly quiet. "Get out of here."

Booker did not need to be told again. He yanked the door open and ran back through the garage as fast as he could. In the background, he vaguely heard Cordelia's and Wesley's voices anxiously calling to Angel, wondering if everything was okay.

He dodged the oncoming traffic and leapt into the rental car. Gunning the engines, he pulled out onto the street, cutting off at least three cars as he raced toward the freeway. He wanted as many miles between himself and Angel Investigations as possible.

When he reached the exit for the Burbank Airport, he got off the freeway and pulled into the nearest empty parking lot. There, he put his head against the steering wheel and tried to will his body to stop shaking. "Dammit!" he shouted.

He tried to take deep breaths, but it did not do him any good. He could not get the image of those yellow eyes and the fangs out of his head. The tiny car suddenly made him claustrophobic and he wrenched the door open. He paced around the car as the Southern California sun sank closer and closer to the horizon.

Suddenly he stopped and stared at the setting sun. Angel didn't like light. Booker had never seen him out during the day. Just now, he had looked like he had just woken up. The windows in his office were heavily curtained.

And then, when he had showed up at Booker's apartment, he had not been able to actually enter the apartment. Not to mention the fact that he had fangs.

Booker nearly fell against the side of his car. "Holy…" he muttered. "He's a vampire."

It did not make any sense. Vampires were movie monsters. They were supposed to look like Bela Lugosi, walking around with black capes and thick accents. They _weren't real_.

He felt his knees start to feel like they might give out. "Angel's a vampire," he repeated. Maybe if he said it out loud enough times, he might begin to believe it.

He tried to remember everything he could about vampires. They did not like garlic. The only way to kill them was to drive a stake through their hearts. They drank blood. They could not come out in sunlight.

Nervously, Booker looked back at the horizon. He had to get somewhere safe before the sun set. Again he jumped back in the car and headed for the rental lot where his motorcycle waited for him.

Once he had the bike back, he was suddenly unsure where he could go. Angel knew where he lived, but as far as he knew, his actual apartment was safe. Any public place was not.

At first he turned and headed toward Ioki's apartment, but then realized that there was nothing to say. How was he supposed to tell one of his oldest friends that he had discovered a vampire living in Los Angeles without that friend thinking that he had lost his mind?

No, Ioki was definitely not an option. And the last person he wanted to see right now was Kate. He briefly wondered why he did not feel that he had to run straight to her side to warn her of the danger that she was in just by knowing Angel.

Speaking of which, why did Angel have two people working for him? Booker had seen both Cordelia and Wesley out in the sunlight. They were obviously not vampires. What in the world were they doing with a monster?

He had no answers to any of the questions. Finally he figured that if Angel could not enter his apartment before, he probably still could not get in. The apartment was most likely safe. He pulled his bike into its parking spot and ran up the stairs. His heart pounded until he had closed the door behind him, locked the deadbolt and pulled the chain. He sat on the couch and kept one eye on the door until the sun rose in the morning.

…

Kate got off the elevator on Booker's floor. She knocked on his door, but no one answered. "Hello?" she called.

Again, no answer. "Huh," she said, frowning. "Dennis?" she tried again.

Nothing. Disappointed, she turned to go back to the elevator when a man stepped out of a nearby doorway. "Kate."

She stopped dead. "Angel," she said.

Angel gave her his trademarked piercing look. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Looking for a friend," she replied warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for the same friend," Angel said. "How have you been?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "I've been okay. What about you? You haven't come by in a while."

Angel looked at the ground sadly. "It's been a rough time. We, uh, we lost someone."

Even though she already knew that Angel had lost one of his team, she still felt for his loss. "I'm so sorry, Angel. Is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head. Then gesturing toward the door, he asked, "Does he make you happy?"

She should have known that she could not keep anything from him. "Yeah," she finally said. "He does."

"He's a pretty good private investigator," Angel said begrudgingly.

Kate laughed. "You'd know, of course."

With a small smile, Angel said, "Thanks. But I've got to know something."

She felt her face flush. "Why?"

Angel nodded. Kate sighed. "I'm sorry. I just – I don't know. I help you so often and there are so many unanswered questions. I'm so sorry."

Why was she apologizing? She was entitled to know about the man who she broke regulations for on a regular basis. She deserved to know what he was hiding.

But now that she looked at him and saw the hurt in his eyes that she would have him investigated, she knew that he could trust him. "I'm sorry," she said again.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

They stood in an awkward silence. Finally Kate said, "Well if you're looking for Dennis, he's not here I guess. No one's answering the door."

He did not seem to believe her, but he nodded anyway. "Take care of yourself, Kate," he said, then disappeared back through the doorway.

She watched him go, mysterious as always, and shook her head. Taking one last look at Booker's closed door, she took the elevator back down to the street.

…

Booker sat in his living room in silence. What in the world was Kate thinking? Why had Angel come looking for him, in the middle of the day, no less? Why hadn't he attacked her?

There was obviously something that he was missing. He had no idea what was going on and that irked him. Kate could not answer his questions. Ioki couldn't either. They had both risked enough for him in the past week. He had to figure this one out on his own.

As much as he was terrified to do it, he knew whom he needed to talk to. Only one person could explain all of the weird things that he had seen and discovered. After a few minutes of getting up his nerve, Booker grabbed the keys to his bike and sped off toward Angel Investigations.


	11. Confrontation

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** Only one more chapter after this!

**DISCLAIMER** I don't own these characters.

**Chapter Eleven**

Booker knew that Angel was not likely to be up in his office at this time of day, so he crept back through the garage and stood nervously in front of the metal door that led to Angel's apartment.

He snorted. More like a lair.

No amount of deep breathing would really make him ready to willingly enter the home of a vampire. Alleged vampire, he corrected himself. "Oh whatever," he muttered irritably and went to open the door.

It slid open before he could grab it. Angel stood in the doorway. "Dennis Booker," he said.

Trying to keep his voice steady, Booker replied, "Angel. Still no last name?"

Angel did not acknowledge the gibe. "I didn't expect to see you back here."

"How'd you know I was out here?" Booker asked.

Cracking a tiny smile, Angel replied. "Fear smells very strong."

Nodding slowly, Booker walked past Angel into the apartment. "Fear smells, huh?"

Angel slid the door closed and followed him into the living room. "Why don't you just ask?" he finally said.

"Now what would I have to ask about?"

There was no answer. So Booker heaved a sigh and, regardless of how stupid he felt, said, "You're a vampire, aren't you?"

Angel sat in an armchair, crossed his hands over his chest, and nodded. "I'm impressed."

Booker paced around the room. "You're a real freaking vampire. What the hell is going on?"

"It's a long story," Angel replied calmly.

"Yeah?" Booker asked. "You want to start with why you haven't attacked me yet? Why you didn't attack Kate outside my apartment this morning? Why you have two people who work for you?"

"Are you done?" Angel asked. "I'll tell you what you want to know."

Frowning, Booker asked, "Just like that?"

Angel nodded. "Just like that."

"Why?"

Angel got up from the chair and started walked into the kitchen. Pulling open the refrigerator, he said, "Here's your first answer."

Cautiously, Booker glanced inside. His stomach turned when he saw the dozens of bags of blood. "What…?"

"Pig's blood," Angel replied. "I haven't drunk human blood in a long time."

"Why not?"

He returned to the chair. "I told you it was a long story."

Booker sat across from him. "How old are you?"

"246."

Booker felt his jaw drop. "Holy shit."

Angel laughed. "Yeah, sometimes I feel that."

Suddenly Booker realized that he was not afraid anymore. He was, however, very curious. "So why don't you drink human blood?"

"Somewhere in the late 1800s, my sire brought me a girl to feed on as a present." Angel's eyes looked even older than usual as he stared at the floor. "She was a gypsy. Her clan got their revenge on me by giving me back my soul."

"Vampires don't have souls?" Booker asked.

Angel shook his head. "Vampires are monsters. But when I got my soul back, I started feeling guilt over the killing. It took a long time to get used to drinking pig's blood, but I couldn't kill people anymore."

Booker leaned back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling. "Those two people upstairs – Cordelia and the British guy."

"Wesley," Angel supplied.

"Right. Do they know you're a vampire?"

Angel nodded. "They know."

And it all fell into place. "But Kate doesn't know."

"No one else knows, at least in Los Angeles." He smirked. "Except you."

Booker chuckled. "I have to tell you that I never expected this when I moved to LA. Are there more vampires in the city?"

Gravely, Angel nodded. "Too many. That's what Angel Investigations does primarily. We take down vampires and demons – the things that the police and other PI's couldn't handle." Again, there was the hint of a smile. "No offense."

Booker threw up his hands. "None taken." Then he whistled. "Wow."

"What?"

Standing and pacing again, Booker was at a loss for words. After a minute, he said, "When Kate came to me to find out what was so weird about you, I thought you were a religious nutcase or maybe in the closet or even one of those crazy guys who tries to sell steaks out of the back of his truck. I was not expecting a vampire who goes hunting for other vampires! Hell, I wasn't expecting vampires at all."

"I don't blame you." Angel looked serious. "But now you have to decide what to do." He stood up and went back to the door. "It's up to you," he said as he slid the door open.

Booker nodded as he left the apartment. He knew what Angel meant.

He had solved his case. Kate had wanted him to find out what Angel's secret was and he had found it. Angel was a vampire. Now all he had to do was tell her and the case would be over. He and Kate would take their relationship to wherever it was meant to go from there.

And somehow, he was not sure that he could bring himself to do it. Angel was a private investigator, just like him. According to everyone who he had talked to, Angel was a very good private investigator on top of that. He may be a monster, but apparently he was on the good side.

Angel was not going to hurt Kate. For the most part, she seemed to trust him. If Booker told her what Angel was, it would destroy that trust. Not to mention the fact that she would think Booker was crazy.

By the time Booker had reached his place, he knew the answer to his last question. He picked up the cordless phone from his kitchen counter and dialed.

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless," Cordelia answered.

"It's Dennis Booker," he said.

"Oh," she snapped. "It's you."

"Don't hang up," he said. "Just tell Angel that I won't say a word."

Cordelia sighed wearily. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Booker smirked. "Just tell him. He'll know." He hung up before she could answer.


	12. Bloody Cross

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** And this is it! I hope you've enjoyed the story. Some of you will notice that the end of this story flows directly into the episode "Somnambulist" is season one of _Angel_. Oh also, the point of view changes a couple times in this chapter – sorry!

**DISCLAIMER** I don't own these characters.

**Chapter Twelve**

He met Kate that evening at the Los Angeles Hard Rock Café. She smiled when she saw him at the table. "Hi Dennis."

Unable to meet her eyes, Booker stared at the plaid tablecloth. "Hey," he said.

She frowned as she sat down. "Is everything okay?"

He sighed and looked at her. "Yeah. It's great."

"Okay," she said slowly. "Then why do you look so upset?"

Idly tapping on the table, he did not answer at first. A waitress came to bring them water, but he waved her off when she asked if they needed anything else. They sat in awkward silence.

"Is it the case?" Kate asked. "Because if it is, then I've thought a lot about it and I think that maybe – "

"It isn't the case," Booker interrupted.

"Oh." Kate brightened. "So the case is going well then?"

He looked her in the eye and could not hide it from her. Reluctantly, he nodded. "The case is solved."

She grinned. "Solved? That's wonderful!"

He did not share her enthusiasm. "Yeah, wonderful."

She waited expectantly. When he said nothing, she prompted, "Well? What'd you find out? What's his secret?"

He looked away, gazing intently at the door, the other customers, the guitars on the wall, anything other than her. "It's nothing."

"It's nothing?" Kate repeated. "What do you mean it's nothing? You told me the case was solved!"

"It's nothing, okay?" he snapped. "Just forget it. Forget all about it."

She stared at him, dumbfounded. "Dennis, I can't just forget it! I hired you to find out what Angel has been hiding. Now did you find out or not?"

He did not want to lie to her. "I found out."

"So tell me!" she said.

Determined not to let his hurt show through, Booker shook his head. "I can't tell you."

Her eyes showed the first signs of tears. "You found out what he's been hiding from me, from everyone, and now you won't tell me."

"That's right," he said, determined not to look at her once again. "I won't tell you."

"Is this some sort of investigator fraternity bullshit?" she asked angrily. "Some solidarity you feel with your brother in arms?"

That was an easy enough excuse. "That's part of it."

Kate held back the tears enough to snap, "And the other part? Dennis, do you care about me at all?"

"This is not about us," Booker said quietly.

"The hell it isn't!" she shot back. "This is all about us! You are choosing keeping Angel's secret over saving this relationship, whatever it is."

He didn't argue. She was right and he knew it. "I'm sorry, Kate."

She shook her head. "Sorry isn't enough." Then she got up from the table and stormed out.

Booker sighed and dropped his head in his hands. He did not even bother to go after her. He knew that Kate would only forgive him this time if he gave up Angel's secret. That was not something he was willing to do.

He threw a tip on the table for the waitress and got his bike out of the garage. For two hours, he rode through Los Angeles, letting the air blow his hair into horrid shapes until his face burned from the wind.

Ioki was not home when Booker knocked, so he figured he would catch up with his old friend later. Ioki would be happy to learn that the investigation was over and he could stop worrying about Booker's safety.

He stopped the motorcycle on a bluff just north of Santa Monica that overlooked the Pacific Ocean and thought of Kate. He only allowed himself a few tears, which the strong ocean breeze dried almost immediately.

He had screwed things up beyond repair with her. He knew it. She knew it. He only hoped that Angel knew what he had sacrificed to keep his identity a secret.

In the basement of Angel Investigations, Angel sat alone in his living room. Cordelia had given him Dennis Booker's message a few hours ago, so he knew that at least for now, Kate would stay oblivious to his true nature.

He wondered why Booker had chosen to keep his secret. He had never met a Los Angeles PI who had shown that kind of loyalty to another in the business. Apparently there was more to Dennis Booker than met the eye.

Perhaps it was time to add another name to the list of those he trusted enough to help him on tough cases. Angel smirked. Asking Booker for help occasionally would make Cordelia so happy.

The light bulb in the lamp beside him flickered and suddenly blinked out. Angel did not bother to replace it. Instead, he sat alone in the dark of his living room.

In the hills about Santa Monica, the roar of a motorcycle engine echoed off the rocky cliffs. Booker sped back to his apartment alone.

The next morning, Kate Lockley arrived at her precinct to find a new case file on her desk. "What's this?" she asked.

"Homicide victim found last night," the lieutenant on duty said. "Be warned though, those pictures are pretty graphic."

Kate ignored his word of caution and opened the folder. The body in the picture stared up at her, a deep bloody cross carved into its cheek.


End file.
